Time & Tide

Lisa Cuddy approached the reception desk to pick up her morning messages before heading to her office. What she didn't expect was to find that both Wilson and Dr. Hadley had called to say they were taking personal days.

"Maybe they have whatever House has," Brenda quipped.

"Let's hope not. I don't want to have to replace two doctors."

Brenda looked at her quizzically, but Cuddy walked away without saying anything further.

She barely got settled at her desk before the urge to call Wilson overtook her. Both his and Hadley's absences were unexpected - especially since she knew Wilson was going to play detective last evening. What could he have discovered that required him to take a personal day?

James debated on answering the phone. He figured it was probably Cuddy calling. But then he realized he should at least check the caller ID. It could be House, or Dr. Nolan returning his call. He reached for the phone, but the caller had hung up.

His missed call log revealed that it had been Cuddy calling. He didn't want to take that call just yet. What would he tell her?

His cell did ring a few moments later. James chose to ignore it. He lay in bed staring up at the ceiling wondering about his friend.

Remy Hadley arrived at Memorial just as visiting hours went into effect. She stopped at the visitor's desk but was told that House was with the doctor and it would be at least forty-five minutes before she could see him. Remy thanked her and headed off to the gift shop in search of something to distract her until she could see her boss.

Darryl Nolan administered the drug that would bring his patient out of sedation. Within minutes Greg House stirred awake, a mix of pain and confusion contorting his face.

"Good morning." Nolan stood over him, face serious with concern.

"What are you doing here," Greg asked sleepily.

"Just curious to find out what happened yesterday."

Greg tried to bring his hand up to scratch an itch on his chin, but didn't get anywhere. He tried the other hand. "Why am I shackled to the bed?"

"Here, let me undo those." Nolan kept his eyes on the patient.

"How did I end up like this?" His head felt fuzzy, like after a night of heavy drinking without the pain of the hangover.

"You don't remember falling on the ice?"

"That I remember. Just not this contraption they've got me hooked up to."

"The doctor assures me it's in your best interest. What's the last thing you remember about yesterday?"

"Back up the train. Let's start with today."

"Today is the twenty second. It's about 9:30 in the morning." Nolan glanced at his watch for confirmation.

"What happened to yesterday?"

"You tell me?"

"The last think I remember is that I was having a procedure done."

"Good. Then what?"

Greg tried to recollect his thoughts. He went through the conversation he had with Thirteen at lunch time. He vaguely remembered being sexually aroused. This caused his pulse to rise.

Nolan noticed it on the monitor. "What were you just thinking?"

"Something embarrassing," Greg blushed.

But with the next thought he turned white as the sheets. His heart started pounding in his chest.

"What is it, Greg?" Nolan kept an eye on the monitors.

"It was Amber." His eyes darted around the room as if he were looking for her.

"What was?"

"I don't know," he sounded confused.

"You know, you just don't want to say it."

"I can't remember every detail. I'm just getting impressions."

"Anything after Amber?"

Greg wouldn't allow himself to think about it anymore. "No."

"Try."

"No!" Greg sighed with resignation.

"Do you remember any pain?"

"That was before Amber showed up." He was surprised that he didn't have to think about that answer.

"What about getting off the table?" Nolan was amused by his own mental picture of House pushing his body to its limits.

"No. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not physically functioning that well."

"That's why you ended up on the floor."

"I don't remember any of that." He was almost defiant.

"Why do you think Amber showed up?"

"The Vicodin." It was another answer that came without thinking.

"There was no Vicodin this time."

House looked at his shrink with uncertainty. His left hand went to the top of his right arm as if feeling for the needle prick.

"They gave you Atavan to calm you down."

"She said it was Vicodin." He sounded as lost as he felt.

"The brain has a way of deceiving us when it's under duress. You were in excruciating pain. The last time you experienced it at that level, you were taking Vicodin. Your brain wanted Vicodin; it tricked your ears into hearing Vicodin. And because the Vicodin caused the hallucinations, you remembered Amber."

Greg looked up into Nolan's calm face. Perhaps it was all a delusion. How was he to know?

"I'm not sure this is real." He watched carefully for any signs he was right: a twitch, a smirk, a gesture from the psychiatrist that his mind was playing tricks on him.

Dr. Nolan frowned. "Why? What is making you believe it's not?"

Greg put the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I don't know. I'm not sure what to believe."

"What would it take to make you believe this is your reality?"

His voice was filled with anguish as he spoke. "I don't know."

Nolan changed tack. "If this is a delusion, how could you prove it?"

"Get up and walk out of it," Greg's eyes lit with an idea. His hand reached for the bedrail as he made to sit up.

The doctor put his hand on his patient's arm. "Not a good idea."

"Take your hands off of me," anger flashed in Greg's eyes.

"House, you can't leave this bed. You'll hurt yourself."

"Then so be it!"

Nolan took Greg's hand and secured it back in the restraint. "I can't allow it. You're telling me we can't trust you. Until you realize differently you'll have to remain restrained to the bed."

"Screw you," Greg tested the leather shackles.

"It's for your own good."